


Aegis's Shield

by twoturtlesinabathtub



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:47:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24751075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoturtlesinabathtub/pseuds/twoturtlesinabathtub
Summary: Felix had made an unfortunate habit of lashing out whenever he felt inferior. Sylvain's infuriating perceptiveness only made matters worse.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 49





	Aegis's Shield

**Author's Note:**

> Whoo, I sure do love my ginger disaster pansexual and blue haired knife cat. Time to start writing 3H fics!

What the _hell_ had just happened?

Felix looked up to see Sylvain triumphantly grinning down at him. “Wow, what the hell just happened?” the redhead said with a surprised laugh, reaching a hand down to his friend.

Felix ignored it in favor of jumping to his feet and throwing a frigid glare at his classmate—or former classmate, rather. They weren't in school, not anymore. This was war.

This was war, and Felix had just lost another fight. He wanted to kick himself.

“A lucky blow,” he snapped, quickly grabbing his training lance from the ground and bringing it back up. 

And if Felix brought the tip so close to Sylvain’s face that he had to cross his eyes to look at it, then...well, there were no witnesses.

Sylvain gulped audibly and brought his hand up to slowly push the end of the lance away from his face. “Hey, no maiming. Didn’t we promise there wouldn’t be any maiming?”

Felix said nothing, instead just kicking Sylvain’s fallen lance back towards the redhead.

Sylvain shook his head in resignation. “Okay, _one_ more time," he relented. "I’m starving.” He reached down and grabbed his lance.

They slowly circled around, each searching for an opening in the other’s stance. With a sudden lunge, Felix swung his lance in a wide arc, aiming for the other man's arm; Sylvain parried easily, almost lazily. Felix grit his teeth as he felt that unmistakable rage begin to simmer low in his gut. Cocky bastard. It wasn't enough that Sylvain was more skilled with the weapon class, or had natural skill only bolstered by a recent surge of hard work, or had offered to spar with swords in an almost patronizing tone. No, he had to act _bored_ on top of it.

They traded several more blows, the sound of their forceful strikes echoing off the stone walls of the training grounds. Sylvain could sense the rage behind Felix's blows. He wanted to say something, but decided against it, since it would likely only anger Felix further.

A few minutes passed, and Felix still hadn't been able to gain the upper hand. He wasn't proud to admit it, but he was mostly going for Sylvain's left side, where he'd sustained a wound from the previous battle. But if it created an opening, then, really, a win was a win.

Quick as he was, Sylvain picked up on the strategy. "Ohh, I see," he said, grunting as he blocked Felix yet again. "Fighting dirty, huh?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Felix growled.

"Fine, play dumb—which you're horrible at, by the way." Sylvain winced as his own arm banged against his side while blocking a hit. "Better come at me with all you have, then. Leave a lasting impression!"

“How about I ‘leave a lasting impression’ on your face?”

“Aw, how did you know what I was planning on asking you at dinner?” Sylvain’s lascivious wink was the final nail in his coffin.

With a snarl, Felix launched himself at the redhead, who squawked as he was bodily tackled to the ground. Sylvain valiantly tried to protect his face from the blows, shrilly shouting “Feli—ouch! Not there!” But the shorter man didn't let up, trying to get a jab in as Sylvain protected his face with his arms.

Miraculously, Sylvain managed to grab one of Felix’s wrists. Their legs were tangled together, and with a quick jerk to the side, Sylvain flipped them over, pinning the swordsman’s arms over his head. “Hey, knock it off!” Sylvain shouted. Felix’s hands balled into fists, his knuckles turning white as he thrashed in the unyielding grip. He bared his teeth as he tried to buck Sylvain off of him, but to no avail. “Felix—just— _stop_!”

Sylvain was nearly five inches taller than Felix, and had considerably more upper body strength. After a few more moments of fruitless struggling, Felix went limp. They were both panting harshly. “I hate you,” Felix hissed, eyes promising murder.

“No, you don’t,” Sylvain replied lowly, almost petulantly, his brows drawn together.

“I hate you,” repeated Felix, louder this time. His voice broke on the second word. “I hate you. I hate you. I _hate_ you.” Sylvain watched Felix’s expression crumble as he spoke—from anger to sadness, sadness to despair, until his eyes began to glimmer and his voice wouldn’t stop cracking.

“No,” muttered Sylvain. He slowly lowered his head until it rested against Felix’s chest. “You never have.” Felix said nothing, but Sylvain felt the chest beneath him begin to shake.

“Why does this keep happening?” Felix whispered. “Why can't I beat you?" Sylvain didn't respond. After a pause, Felix let loose words that he'd hoped to never say aloud. "Why do you have this—this— _power_ over me?”

Sylvain chuckled quietly. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he said, "Remember that weekend a few years back? When our fathers met to coordinate fortifying our territories' borders against Imperial invasion?"

"Ye—what? Where's this coming from?" demanded Felix, nonplussed.

"I hadn't seen you since Garreg Mach fell. You looked so sad when you were with Rodrigue. Well, not _sad_ sad, more angry than anything. But I could tell how you really felt. You felt...helpless." To Sylvain, Felix's tight-lipped silence and averted gaze were just a confirmation of his suspicions.

"What do you know about me?" Felix muttered. It was meant to be rhetorical.

Sylvain realized this. He also realized he had to get Felix out of his own head for even a few measly seconds. "I _know_ how protective and compassionate you really are," he replied. "I _know_ how hard you struggle to accept that you can't control everything around you or inside you, no matter how hard you try. I know you better than anyone else, stupid. And I want it to stay that way for the rest of our lives."

Felix's eyes widened fractionally as he stared at the man holding him down, and he could feel unmistakable warmth starting to seep into his cheeks.

Felix knew Sylvain just as well as the other knew Felix. It wasn't difficult to pick up on the true meaning behind the readhead's words. Sylvain seemed to notice this, too, and a look of absolute mortification crossed his features.

With a grunt, Felix tore his wrists from Sylvain’s slackened hold and flipped them over before Sylvain could so much as blink. The sworsdman pressed on Sylvain's shoulders, pinning him down with his eyes as well as his firm grip.

Sylvain's face was pale as he stared up at Felix in slack-jawed fear, and his breathing indicated he was seconds away from hyperventilating. “I—uhhh, so...you know—”

“Sylvain.”

“...Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

Sylvain would’ve given an indignant response if Felix hadn’t leaned down and kissed him roughly.

Thoughts grinding to a halt, he let out a small sigh as his hand came up to curl into the back of Felix’s hair. He must’ve misjudged his strength, though, because the dark hair was pulled from its ponytail and fell down to curtain Felix’s face. He bit Sylvain’s lip in retaliation, making the redhead grunt quietly but press their lips even more firmly together. The noise seemed to spur Felix on, and his grip on Sylvain’s shoulders loosened as one of his hands moved to cup Sylvain's cheek. The readhead snickered quietly.

The little laugh abruptly became a pained gasp when Felix's hand wandered down and pressed hard on Sylvain's most recent wound. "Sothis above, Felix!" he hissed through clenched teeth, glaring at the swordsman. "What the hell—" 

Felix cut him off. “Never do this again. Ever. Not for anyone. And _especially_ not for me.”

“What...what can I say?” said Sylvain between labored breaths, his mouth quirking up into a grin. “You drive me wild.”

Felix made an irritated noise and stared Sylvain down; the redhead noticed that a few traitorous tears had finally slipped from Felix’s eyes. “I’m serious,” the swordsman asserted gruffly, leaning down until the two were nose to nose. “If you die on me, I’ll dig you up and slap your corpse.”

Sylvain reached up to cup Felix’s face with his hand, his thumb wiping away one of the tears. Felix unconsciously leaned his face into Sylvain’s touch, his eyes squeezed shut. “Hey. No one’s going to die. Okay?” Sylvain murmured.

“You don’t know that,” muttered Felix. “War doesn’t work that way.”

“Pfft. Are you kidding? With the two of us looking out for each other, not even the goddess herself could get rid of us. She’s already tried it plenty of times.”

Felix snorted quietly. “How blasphemous of you.”

“Like you care.”

Felix permitted himself a small grin. “The things you do to me....”

Sylvain’s smirk stretched even wider. “What else can I get away with doing to you?”

Felix’s answering eye-roll made Sylvain snicker. He made to get off of Sylvain, but before he could, the redhead’s hands caught his hips and kept him still. Felix was transfixed by the subtle adoration writ clear as day across Sylvain's face.

“I’m gonna stick around to annoy you as long as I can. That’s a promise,” Sylvain assured him.

“You’d better. Idiot.” And Felix kissed Sylvain again before he was fully conscious of doing so.


End file.
